Welcome Home Vietnam Veterans Day

[markiver54]

Ain't that the truth....AMEN!

[GunnyGene]

Ain't that the truth....AMEN!

Maybe I should explain myself a bit. I have no problem with anyone who honorably served in the past, or present. Don't know about the future. They did their job, and I'm glad they did. But that's a separate issue from being up to your eyeballs in combat. I'm a warrior, as were the men of my family going back to the 1600's. So it's in my blood, and I don't apologize for it. My grandfather was in the trenches in WWI, my father nearly died when his ship was sunk by the Japs in Iron Bottom Sound. One uncle fought on Okinawa, another at the Chosin Reservoir, both were wounded.

There is a difference between warriors and those who serve in other capacities.

Through a Glass Darkly
by Gen. George S. Patton, Jr.

Through the travail of the ages,
Midst the pomp and toil of war,
Have I fought and strove and perished
Countless times upon this star.

In the form of many people
In all panoplies of time
Have I seen the luring vision
Of the Victory Maid, sublime.

I have battled for fresh mammoth,
I have warred for pastures new,
I have listed to the whispers
When the race trek instinct grew.

I have known the call to battle
In each changeless changing shape
From the high souled voice of conscience
To the beastly lust for rape.

I have sinned and I have suffered,
Played the hero and the knave;
Fought for belly, shame, or country,
And for each have found a grave.

I cannot name my battles
For the visions are not clear,
Yet, I see the twisted faces
And I feel the rending spear.

Perhaps I stabbed our Saviour
In His sacred helpless side.
Yet, I've called His name in blessing
When after times I died.

In the dimness of the shadows
Where we hairy heathens warred,
I can taste in thought the lifeblood;
We used teeth before the sword.

While in later clearer vision
I can sense the coppery sweat,
Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery
When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.

Hear the rattle of the harness
Where the Persian darts bounced clear,
See their chariots wheel in panic
From the Hoplite's leveled spear.

See the goal grow monthly longer,
Reaching for the walls of Tyre.
Hear the crash of tons of granite,
Smell the quenchless eastern fire.

Still more clearly as a Roman,
Can I see the Legion close,
As our third rank moved in forward
And the short sword found our foes.

Once again I feel the anguish
Of that blistering treeless plain
When the Parthian showered death bolts,
And our discipline was in vain.

I remember all the suffering
Of those arrows in my neck.
Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage
As I died upon my back.

Once again I smell the heat sparks
When my Flemish plate gave way
And the lance ripped through my entrails
As on Crecy's field I lay.

In the windless, blinding stillness
Of the glittering tropic sea
I can see the bubbles rising
Where we set the captives free.

Midst the spume of half a tempest
I have heard the bulwarks go
When the crashing, point blank round shot
Sent destruction to our foe.

I have fought with gun and cutlass
On the red and slippery deck
With all Hell aflame within me
And a rope around my neck.

And still later as a General
Have I galloped with Murat
When we laughed at death and numbers
Trusting in the Emperor's Star.

Till at last our star faded,
And we shouted to our doom
Where the sunken road of Ohein
Closed us in it's quivering gloom.

So but now with Tanks a'clatter
Have I waddled on the foe
Belching death at twenty paces,
By the star shell's ghastly glow.

So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.

And I see not in my blindness
What the objects were I wrought,
But as God rules o'er our bickerings
It was through His will I fought.

So forever in the future,
Shall I battle as of yore,
Dying to be born a fighter,
But to die again, once more.

Sestina: Altaforte

LOQUITUR: En Bertrans de Born.
Dante Alighieri put this man in hell for that he was a stirrer
up of strife.
Eccovi!
Judge ye!
Have I dug him up again?
The scene is at his castle, Altaforte. "Papiols" is his jongleur.
"The Leopard," the device of Richard Coeur de Lion.

I

Damn it all! all this our South stinks of peace.
You whoreson dog, Papiols, come! Let's to music!
I have no life save when the swords clash.
But ah! when I see the standards gold, vair, purple, opposing
And the broad fields beneath them turn crimson,
Then howl I my heart nigh mad with rejoicing.

II

In hot summer have I great rejoicing
When the tempests kill the earth's foul peace,
And the lightnings from black heav'n flash crimson,
And the fierce thunders roar me their music
And the winds shriek through the clouds mad, opposing,
And through all the riven skies God's swords clash.

III

Hell grant soon we hear again the swords clash!
And the shrill neighs of destriers in battle rejoicing,
Spiked breast to spiked breast opposing!
Better one hour's stour than a year's peace
With fat boards, bawds, wine and frail music!
Bah! there's no wine like the blood's crimson!

IV

And I love to see the sun rise blood-crimson.
And I watch his spears through the dark clash
And it fills all my heart with rejoicing
And pries wide my mouth with fast music
When I see him so scorn and defy peace,
His lone might 'gainst all darkness opposing.

V

The man who fears war and squats opposing
My words for stour, hath no blood of crimson
But is fit only to rot in womanish peace
Far from where worth's won and the swords clash
For the death of such sluts I go rejoicing;
Yea, I fill all the air with my music.

VI

Papiols, Papiols, to the music!
There's no sound like to swords swords opposing,
No cry like the battle's rejoicing
When our elbows and swords drip the crimson
And our charges 'gainst "The Leopard's" rush clash.
May God damn for ever all who cry "Peace!"

VII

And let the music of the swords make them crimson!
Hell grant soon we hear again the swords clash!
Hell blot black for alway the thought "Peace"!

Ezra Pound

[cooperhawk]

Awesome Gunny Gene.
One Great Grandfather fought in the civil war from Minnesota.
On Grandfather was in the Wyoming Rough Riders in the Spanish American War.
My Father Donald joined in 1943 even though he was 33 and had a family ineligible for the draft. Wounded in Belgium in the Battle of the Bulge.
Brothers:
Harold, 3rd Army, Cook
Robert 3rd Army, MP
Kenneth Army Europe Infantry
Leslie, Army, Aluetion Islands
William, Marines, Iwo Jima, Tank Commander
Richard, Air Force b29 Navigator Tippets Squadron
Brothers in Law
Emil Martin, US Navy
Eldon Abrahamson, 82cd Airborne, Dropped ahead of D Day.
Robert Sargent, US Navy Anti Submarine Patrol.

I was the first of many Grandchildren to serve in Vietnam.

That's my family.

[GunnyGene]

Awesome Gunny Gene.
One Great Grandfather fought in the civil war from Minnesota.
On Grandfather was in the Wyoming Rough Riders in the Spanish American War.
My Father Donald joined in 1943 even though he was 33 and had a family ineligible for the draft. Wounded in Belgium in the Battle of the Bulge.
Brothers:
Harold, 3rd Army, Cook
Robert 3rd Army, MP
Kenneth Army Europe Infantry
Leslie, Army, Aluetion Islands
William, Marines, Iwo Jima, Tank Commander
Richard, Air Force b29 Navigator Tippets Squadron
Brothers in Law
Emil Martin, US Navy
Eldon Abrahamson, 82cd Airborne, Dropped ahead of D Day.
Robert Sargent, US Navy Anti Submarine Patrol.

I was the first of many Grandchildren to serve in Vietnam.

That's my family.

Most people don't understand our kind. I've met many, and it's simply beyond their comprehension. It's good to talk with others who do.

[mlrifleNY]

I was in the army and served in phu bie and quang tri in 70 and 71. I was an MP and worked on V100's running convoys up and down QL1 and to the DMZ taking fuel tankers to refuel the choppers. I was the radio operator and had 2 M60's to use.

Jim

[The Wiz]

see signature. Additional info: Track Commander(APC) 2/22 inf. NCOIC Sniper and Recon teams (101st) Best memory: getting on a 727 heading for home.

[Cofisher]

God Bless you all who served. My family also has a long line. You are my heroes.